


Paragon

by Pinkcess, Transformabae



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Experimentation, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Control, Psychological Torture, Soul Sex, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-14 13:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5745379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkcess/pseuds/Pinkcess, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Transformabae/pseuds/Transformabae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>W.D Gaster prides himself on his scientific prowess, on his ability to please the King with his breakthrough knowledge and developments, but he also prides himself on his ability to think logically. After being tasked with a research project based around soul extraction in humans, Gaster finds the work load too heavy to be able to continue his own work. Asgore wants to break the barrier, to extract revenge on the humans for the suffering caused by them - but he’s foolish. With the resources being the Royal Scientist provides him, Gaster begins to tamper into the study of soul insertion in order to create the most exemplary being.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Prologue**

* * *

 

** PROJECT CHALYBEOUS  
** **LOG ENTRY 1**

My workload has increased as of late - but this is only natural, of course. The loss of ASGORE'S children and the loss of his wife weighs on him greatly, yet he still wishes to break the barrier. This is farce. I do not have the time to construct a method to retain a human soul, its ethereal form is unsustainable in this environment due to unnatural forces in our atmosphere. Rather than merely evaporating, I have observed that the unrestricted movements of a human soul after death become unpredictable around the matter of monsters. I hypothesise that this is due to the difference of our molecular structure - monsters are made up of mere “magic”, humans of a manner of covalent bonds and atomic formats that are incompatible with “magic”.

I no longer have enough time to develop my own personal research projects, however I believe I may have come to a compromise. Whilst I shall follow ASGORE’S request for developing soul manipulation and extraction, I shall also use my time to explore the opposite - soul affinity and insertion. My hypothesis continues that if you were to fuse a human soul with the extract of a monster’s anatomy, the bases would adapt to each other - creating a product - creating a conscience. The potential in this project alone is worth any human soul and if successful, it could be my greatest discovery yet.

* * *

** PROJECT CHALYBEOUS  
** **LOG ENTRY 2**

Being the ROYAL SCIENTIST has its advantages - my knowledge of the ROYAL GUARD, combined with my various surveillance mechanisms has allowed me to obtain a human.

_SUBJECT:_

_MALE_

_ADOLESCENT_

_5’3”_

_HEALTH: ACCEPTABLE_

_FITNESS: ADEQUATE_

_OBSERVATIONS: SUBJECT SEEMS SEVERELY AGITATED. ADVERSE REACTION TO ENVIRONMENT. UNCOOPERATIVE NATURE TOWARDS EXPERIMENT. BEHAVIOUR RANGES FROM VIOLENT, WITH EMOTIONAL FITS OF CONFUSION AND PLEADING OR, ON THE CONTRARY - CATATONIA AND APATHY. IN SPITE OF THESE BEHAVIORAL PATTERNS, SUBJECT’S SOUL STILL REMAINS POTENT AND UTILISABLE._

After some study of the SUBJECT, I have reached the conclusion that I will need another human to act as a catalysing agent for my current SUBJECT to fuse with my chosen reagent. If the soul and anatomy of the current SUBJECT were used in conjunction, I strongly believe that the reaction with the reagent would be unstable and a waste of potential. I will not squander my resources or this opportunity. It is my belief that the anatomical input of a SECOND SUBJECT would allow the reagents to combine securely. I am fascinated by what may occur and for what my experiment may yield.

* * *

 

** PROJECT CHALYBEOUS  
** **LOG ENTRY 3**

My hypothesis is looking hopeful. The reaction between the two bases (SOUL/EXTRACT) created a humanoid PRODUCT. Beside the soul, I used matter from my own hand as a reactant and vital systems from the SECOND SUBJECT to catalyse the reaction. The fusion of all three components has proven... interesting - the PRODUCT bares resemblance to myself and shows promising signs of life. I will continue to observe its current state of consciousness and map any progress. As I have said, I am hopeful - but I do not deal in absolutes.  

* * *

 

** PROJECT CHALYBEOUS  
** **LOG ENTRY 4**

The PRODUCT is conscious now, showing signs of bodily function and reflexes. PRODUCT reacts to light and loud sounds. PRODUCT is stable and appears to be aware of surroundings. I have yet to hear a literate response from it, however I find it probable that it is capable of communication. I eagerly await the outcome.

* * *

 

** PROJECT CHALYBEOUS  
** **LOG ENTRY 5**

THE CREATION is now fully conscious and communicating at regular intervals. As I had expected, he has inherited functions from the subjects and myself. He is capable of basic linguistics, logical thoughts and is beginning to show an understanding of morals. He, however seems frail and is having trouble adapting to his form - so far, movement appears to cause him discomfort and he struggles with simple hand-eye coordination. Yet, he functions - he’s alive. Once again, my illustrious ideas bear fruit.

* * *

 

** PROJECT CHALYBEOUS  
** **LOG ENTRY 6**

THE CREATION has become more mobile, bodily functions improving with consumption of nutrients, respiration and improved reflex.

SIDE NOTE: THE CREATION lacks visible organs, much like myself, however - he is capable of intaking nourishment in ways I cannot - he can eat physical matter and seems to process it as an energy source. I can only theorise that this is due to the SECOND SUBJECT’S contribution to his formation.

After further observation, THE CREATION has taken an interest in science, a variety of mind stimulating activities such as taking part in literate exercises, mental invigoration and physical exertion. THE CREATION is beginning to show independency in his thoughts, has formed a personality and a conscience - this is an extraordinary outcome. Due to his developing autonomy - his ability to be independent, to be capable of understanding social interaction and his ability to make logical decisions based on a set of parameters and outcomes, I deem it fitting that THE CREATION deserves a name.

THE CREATION has taken particular interest the study of the lexical language and its extensive diversity in our vocabulary. He is attempting to teach himself better linguistics so he can fully understand how others work, specifically he has become fascinated in different human languages. It is due to his semantic nature that I feel a name related to language would suffice. The thought has been ailing me recently, but no longer - I shall name him SANS. This is a prominent letter in the human language, Greek, and a word in the French language - these are both subjects he enjoys and the name fits him somehow. I am looking forward to seeing what he is capable of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, hi! We know this chapter is short but it's a prologue - we're both kind of busy with sixth form and college but we're working out a schedule so we can upload regularly. This is gonna be a dark one, so warnings will be at the start of each chapter and cuddles presented at the end. Stay slinky, cool cats!


	2. A New Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans wakes up.

**Chapter 1**

Sans woke up to an unpleasant smell wafting through the crack of his door, the scent drifting past his face causing him to stir awake. He felt restricted still by the large amount of pads and wires he was hooked up to, large and unnatural needles perforating his bones. He didn’t know what their job was, but Gaster had told him they were necessary. They ranged from a variety of bright colours, all wired to an individual machine which he assumed monitored his vitals. He was still unsure, he’d heard Gaster talking to himself about it whilst he made notes on his pad.

The door slipped open further as Gaster walked in, mumbling to himself. He brought a tray with him, the scent coming from a bowl on it. As the scientist approached the bed, Sans sat up slowly, bones aching.

“Is movement still causing you discomfort?” Gaster asked, his voice breaking the silence of the room.

“... Yeah.” Sans’ voice came out raspy from disuse. Gaster placed the tray carefully in his lap and sat in the seat next to him.  Sans eyed the bowl. 

“I see. Other than the aforementioned discomfort, how are you feeling this morning?” 

Sans reached for the glass of orange juice that Gaster had brought in on the tray, bringing it up to his mouth and taking a long sip before placing it down and answered. “Er… Not much better..” Sans pointed to a few places on his body where pain was more prominent. “Mainly here, here… yeah.” 

“Noted,” Gaster jotted some notes down on his pad, he looked back up at Sans, pushing his glasses back up into their usual position, he smiled reassuringly. “Anything of particular merit? I recommend you eat the porridge.”

“Head kinda hurts too,” Sans shrugged, picking up the spoon carefully and scooping up a small amount of the... _porridge_ before putting it in his mouth and swallowing slowly, the taste bitter. He looked to Gaster for approval, and was relieved to see that Gaster nodded - he was doing the action correctly. He continued eating.

“I am assuming that is a natural occurrence, however I have never done an experiment quite like this, so I cannot be sure.” 

After eating a few more mouthfuls of the porridge Sans shuddered a little and looked down at his bowl. “Gaster… this doesn’t taste okay.” Sans frowned as he looked to Gaster for an explanation. 

“Brilliant. Your gustatory perception is working better than I had originally expected.” Gaster once again began to jot down notes before looking up at the tray and Sans, “Did I say you could stop eating?” 

Sans quickly went back to eating before muttering a quiet apology towards Gaster. It tasted vile, as if someone had shaken a tub of salt into the mixture. The texture was equally unpleasant, clumpy and slightly cold. Sans ignored the this to the best of his ability, it seemed to please Gaster and right now that seemed for the best.

Gaster placed down his pad and crossed his arms on his lap. “Seeming as you have been recovering successfully as of late, I’ve made the decision to take you out of the medical bay.”

“Really? Thank yo-” Sans was quickly interrupted. 

“Do not talk with your mouth full.” Gaster snapped before lowering his eyes, shuffling a little on his seat, readjusting his glasses and clearing his throat. “Nonetheless, yes. I want you to finish your breakfast quickly, time is of the essence and I wish to continue our tests, to ensure your safety.”

Sans swallowed the mouthful of porridge, the feel of it uncomfortable in his mouth and throat before whispering, “Sorry.”

Gaster stood up swiftly, ignoring his apology and taking the tray from Sans’ lap, exiting the room with a short, “I will be with you in just one moment.”

Sans stared after Gaster, sighing slightly to himself. His bones ached painfully - he could move slowly, but after a while the twinging in his limbs became too much. No matter how many times Sans told Gaster he was in pain, the scientist refused to give him anything to soothe it, always murmuring cryptically; _“There is far worse pain to come.”_

The words confused Sans. Logically, he knew what the words meant - he had learnt them, read their meaning in books and recited them aloud to the impassive scientist - but the sentence didn’t make _sense_ to him. Nothing would or _could_ harm him here - despite the aching bones, the bad porridge - Gaster looked after him. He had no reason not to feel safe. He could only guess that his hearing was playing up (Gaster had said his senses may be unreliable, especially at first), rendering words that his mind knew in the place of silence.

Sans fiddled around with the wires that were attached to his bones and he frowned at the multi-coloured machine. Gaster seldom mentioned the metal contraptions so Sans always assumed they were monitoring his condition. He yanked at one softly, a small _‘pop’_ sounded as it unstuck from inside his bones. He yelped slightly at the strange sensation, staring in disbelief as the bones reformed, the holes filling themselves in as if there had never been any intrusion. Sans quickly worked at the others needles, pads and wires, each time dumbfounded at how quickly his body reformed itself, a dull ache blossoming each time.

“Sans, I have prepared you-” Gaster came back in holding a stack of neatly folded clothing in his arms, his neutral facial features quickly changing into an expression Sans couldn’t identify, his mouth twisting downwards and eye sockets narrowing. It made Sans feel uneasy - an uncomfortable jittering deep in his ribcage.

“Did I tell you to remove those?” Gaster’s expression had straightened out, impassive once more. His tone was even, calm, but still Sans felt on edge. 

“N-No!” Sans quickly flustered out, looking at his lap where he began to twiddle his thumbs. “Sorry.” He spoke quietly as he avoided the older man’s gaze.

“You will look at me when I am talking to you.” Gaster scowled at him, making Sans squirm, before turning to place the pile of clothing on the cabinet, patting them down evenly as he separated them into organized piles. “I have prepared a room for you to stay in. This is what you will wear when you are in my company.” 

Sans watched Gaster even out the clothing, his nerves still frayed from his earlier reaction. 

“I expect you to be thankful for what I'm providing you with, as it is a privilege compared to what others receive.” Gaster straightened his posture as he looked back to Sans, smiling slightly at the fact that he had his attention. “You will have access to nourishment, water and clothing. All I expect of you is obedience and willing participation in my work - these two conditions are compulsory.” 

Sans nodded before speaking “Thank you, Gaster.” 

He began to swivel his legs slowly from the hospital bed, his arms supporting himself to stand. Sans paused as he felt Gaster’s unapproving glare. “Um, please may I stand up?” 

Gaster smiled and re-adjusted his glasses before grabbing his pad and jotting some notes down. “Yes, you may.” Gaster watched as the skeleton stood feebly, evidently still getting use to his body - it would take time. 

His limbs shook as he tried to move to reach the clothes Gaster had lain out for him. His limbs were too short to comfortably cross the distance, the clothes out of his reach. Sans let go of the side of the bed so he could reach further, but he had miscalculated how much strength he had and he clattered to the floor with a short cry. He trembled as the fall caused pain to shoot through his body, a small whimper escaping him. 

Gaster tilted his head, “Do you require assistance?”

“Y-yes-” Sans gasped, his bones much too perceptive to the pain, his new senses too raw and too sensitive. “P-please!”

Gaster nodded his approval, tucking his notepad away. He moved over to Sans, gripping him under the arms and lifting him up, placing him back onto the bed. Gaster grabbed the pile of clothes and placed them beside him.

“Thank you.”

“It is no problem.”

Sans grabbed the first shirt he saw, holding it at the hem he attempted to lift it over his head. Sans whined in pain as he lifted the shirt into position, the angle his bones were at was causing him great discomfort as the short bursts of pain pulsed through his shoulders. Sans quickly dropped his arms at the sensation and looked to Gaster, embarrassed.

“Sorry, c-could you please help me get dressed?” Sans shifted awkwardly, his face feeling slightly warmer as he looked to the older skeleton for aid.

“Since you asked so nicely.”  

Gaster strode over to the bed before swiftly kneeling down, the position making it easier for him to perform the task. He took the shirt from Sans' hands, fingertips meeting briefly, the  sensation so different from the pain coursing through Sans' bones that it made him shiver. Gaster put the shirt over his head, his movements surprisingly gentle before tugging it over his skull and maneuvering his arms through the sleeves carefully.

Sans moved his legs up slowly, so that they were at a better angle for the older skeleton as he slipped the fabric over the shaking limbs. He helped him onto his feet, pulling the trousers up to his pelvis and buckling the belt so they’d stay. They weren't exactly the best fitting clothes - the shirt was plain but too long, loose around his shoulders and hanging limply from his frame, the trousers needing to be rolled up at the bottom for him to be able to walk properly. Gaster had discovered his old attire from his childhood, he’d assumed they fit considering their genetics. He’d assumed wrong, not fully realising the profundity of the human factors’ influence on his creation’s physical form.

“Thank you.” Sans said gratefully, his face still hot with embarrassment.

Gaster smiled slightly, glad to see that Sans was beginning to learn his manners. He moved to open the door to let the youth out of the medbay.

“I am sure you will feel right at home.” Gaster lips tilted up as he watched Sans struggle through the door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're not good at updating, but we'll try <3


	3. Intrigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaster finds a new interest in Sans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Mum.  
> (end of chapter is NSFW)

Sans had never seen out of the medbay before now, he’d tried to peek through the gap in the door when Gaster would leave it slightly ajar but in turn, the light would be off so his could only make out vague silhouettes of machinery. Holding onto the door frame as a support, Sans was almost blinded by the sheer whiteness of the room. Alien machinery was attached to the walls with large illuminated screens emitting a quiet hum as it processed what Sans assumed to be data. The room was rather spacious with large hatches parallel to his current position, evidently leading onto another secluded area whilst a more so normal alabaster door to his right. Sans stood still, unsure whether to walk unaided into the room were he to upset Gaster due to his current clumsiness. 

"You may enter." Gaster's smooth baritone called from behind him, the older skeleton a cold presence against back.

With Gaster’s approval easing his anxiety, Sans pushed the door open and stepped into the dark room, Gaster close behind him. Gaster flicked the light on and Sans had to wait for his vision to settle as the light flooded his eye sockets, making his head hurt. 

The room was bare, barren and bland, Sans couldn't find any more words in his vocabulary to describe it. In the corner laid a small bed, supported by what he could see very delicate wooden supports, containing a thin mattress and singular lonely grey pillow with a matching wrinkled sheet. In an odd, emotional term, Sans sympathised with the pillow. The room itself was large and deserted of any form of entertainment or colour, add a few iron bars, a cracked concrete floor and it might as well of been a prison. In the far corner however stood a tall bookcase, shelves empty of words. Next to in laid a small wooden dresser, copper handles tarnished with the dull shine of the small ceiling light that hung in the middle. Sans saw a large amount of possibilities he could do with the room, his eyes darted around the room, mentally personalising it with colour and possessions. 

He stumbled further into the room, feeling oddly trapped. The dreary greys of the room felt confining, made him feel claustrophobic. 

“This shall be your room,” Gaster stated. “I expect your assistance in my lab, and in exchange I shall provide the relevant training.”

“Training?” Sans asked confused, tilting his head up to look at the taller skeleton’s amused glare, thumbs twiddling slowly in his hands. 

“Yes, you don’t expect me to allow you to roam my labs aimlessly with no clue, do you? You could break something.” 

Sans laughed before awkwardly trailing off as Gaster stared at him questioningly. He hadn’t been joking.

“Uh, I guess, yeah. When…?” Sans nodded optimistically, the idea of science appealing to him slightly, he had been curious to see what all those machines did.

“As soon as possible, should you feel up to it. However, I would prefer for it to start today. I intend to have you as my assistant and there is much to be done.” Gaster spoke firmly, emphasising the importance of the fact Sans would be ready to be working today. He’d been putting off research and study whilst he dedicated his precious time to the monster, making sure he was healthy and well nourished. 

“I think I could when my legs feel… um, sturdier.” Sans shrugged indecisively, lifting his feet a little to test his balance.

Gaster was staring at him again. Sans couldn’t read his facial expression.

“One thing you will certainly learn while working with me - I do not appreciate indecisiveness,” Gaster said slowly, tutting slightly at the short skeleton. “It agitates me, and is unconstructive to a good working environment.”

“Uh, I’m sorry,” Sans didn’t want Gaster to be angry again, so he tried to sooth him. His bones ached less than they did earlier, the pain lessened to a dull throb. He was still clumsy, trying to become used to movement, but other than that… “I’m not really… in pain anymore. Still feel clumsy.”

Gaster nodded, “Yes, I believe that is to be expected, but should cease once you’ve spent some time acclimating to your body. I don’t intend to permit you access to anything destructible during your immediate training anyhow.”  

“W-What’ll you be teaching me?” Sans asked nervously. Gaster seemed calm, but he didn’t want his questions to annoy the other.

However, it seemed Gaster liked to talk about his profession because he smiled slightly as he answered and the sight loosened some of the tension Sans had felt in his shoulders, “I aspire to teach you much. Most importantly, I shall see to it that you are a clean and methodical lab assistant, efficient, effective and overall _eager_ to learn, to work \- but I also wish to further your studies of literature, the mathematics and history.”

Sans stared at Gaster, surprised at his enthusiasm and persistence. He was torn between deciding whether this meant a lot to him emotionally or if he just had a lot of time on his hands. “Sounds… fun?” Sans smiled at the scientist, the smile quickly turning into a straight line when he saw the disapproving scowl of Gaster.

“Yes. It certainly will be.” Gaster frowned at his creation before his lips tilted into a smile as he imagined the possibilities of science he could experiment on. 

* * *

Gaster pointed to a small paragraph of text in a book. “So this is why here we use a catalyst, especially with machines of minimal yield potential.” Gaster gesticulated with his hands as he allowed Sans another minute to read through it before taking the book away and stacking it on the now filled bookshelf in Sans’ room. The shelf had become stacked with various books on physics and chemistry with a few biology ones about skeletal anatomy. Over the last couple weeks it had become clear to Gaster that Sans’, though artificially created, was physically very weak. His bones were slightly malleable, with a great deal of force his bones would possibly shift them permanently or in a worse case, deform them. Gaster had originally put it down to his body being frail as an initial side-effect of the experiment but after a few weeks it had become clear that was not the case. It was not a fatal hindrance, but would cause a lot of issues if not addressed with proper treatment throughout his life.

He had come to two conclusions: either something had gone wrong in the creation process , or his experiment had been a  _ failure _ . He couldn’t go back and change what he’d done, and Sans had learnt a considerable amount - he would likely make a good assistant once he’d completed training, he was obedient and not unintelligent.

“I get it. That’s… pretty interesting.” Sans offered. Gaster had been helping Sans study for a few hours and the younger skeleton’s attention was clearly drifting. While Gaster could happily read all day, he highly doubted his creation capable of such, but his  protégé had been attentive and he would be rewarded for his good behaviour. 

“Indeed it is. I believe that a break is in order, however,” Gaster got up from his seat. “If you would follow me.”

Sans stood up, his movement a lot more stable than it had been previously, and they both made their way towards  the kitchen.

The kitchen was very sleek and modern, metallic and chrome colours spread across the counters and cabinets. There were a few stools at one of the counters with a ledge, Sans went to sit there before pausing. “May I sit there?” Sans pointed with his finger whilst looking at Gaster. 

Gaster nodded before going to the cupboard and getting Sans a glass of water. “Don’t point.” He commanded as he placed the glass in front of his. “It is rude, a display of poor etiquette, not what I have taught you, is it?” 

“No... sorry, Gaster.” Sans quickly apologised, turning to grab his glass and accidentally knocking it over, his body still evidently not responding the way he wanted it to. Sans panicked as he watched the glass fall towards the floor, dreading Gaster’s reaction for when it smashed. He tensed up, not daring to look as he waited for the sound of the glass breaking.

“Sans.” Gaster said gently. He hadn’t heard the glass smash.

Sans looked over to where he had knocked the glass, expecting to see that Gaster had caught it or… something. But where he had expected to see something logical, the way Gaster had taught him, he saw something unexpected.

The glass was levitating.

“Uh...?” Sans questioned, his panic becoming confusion. The glass started to fall as his distress lessened, but Gaster reached out and grabbed it before it could crash to the ground.

“Intriguing,” Gaster murmured, the look he gave Sans was calculating. “It appears that my experiment has yielded... unanticipated results.” 

“G-Gaster?” Sans squeaked out as he stared at the scientist, he was formulating something, what it was Sans could not tell. “Is everything okay?” Sans questioned nervously.

“Okay? No… things are… exceptional. How long have you been able to do that?” Gaster beamed at Sans with new interest. 

“J-Just now.” Sans stuttered, happy that Gaster was reacting excitedly towards him, seeming quite flustered.

Gaster ignored the stuttering and quickly clasped onto Sans. “We need to harness this, you are evidently… talented, no.  _ Gifted  _ in the art of magic.” Gaster prompted Sans with ‘gifted’, hoping the idea of his talent would help him cooperate with what he had planned to come. 

“Sans, I would like you to rest for the remainder of the afternoon. There is much to be done tomorrow and I expect you to be in your best condition.” Gaster commanded as he gestured towards Sans’ bedroom. 

* * *

Sans quickly compiled and went to his bedroom, shutting the door softly as he turned to face the room. Without the light of the lab room, it was extremely dim. The ceiling light flickered every now and then, Sans reluctantly got into bed, the rickety wood creaking with his weight. Fortunately, the bedding was softer than it looked, and whilst he was feeling better, the ache of his body still remained. The comfort was something he looked forward to at the end of every day, it was a time where he could be alone with his thoughts.

Sans’ hands slightly wandered down towards his coccyx, a shaking hand fumbling slightly around the rim of the gap that separated his ilium and sacrum. Over the course of the past few weeks, Sans had gradually grown accustomed to his body and its needs. He’d figured out what angles his limbs could reach to, what parts were painfully sensitive and what parts were equally stimulating. He’d originally discovered this activity… whatever it was, on accident. But it felt good, and that had to be a positive. 

His thoughts drifted back to Gaster. Although the older skeleton had expressed pride in what he’d done before, he’d never… sounded so impressed with him. He bit at his lip as the thought made something flutter low in his abdomen. Sans had recognised that feeling, he’d grown used to what it meant now. Reaching down he rubbed a thumb over his sensitive pelvis, gasping slightly at the touch as a wave of pleasure washed over him. 

Sans forced himself onto his front, burying his head within his pillow. Over the last week, he’d found himself to be rather... vocal, and whilst Gaster was still awake, he did not want him finding him doing this act. Each time it would feel amazing, yet a small feeling of guilt would niggle in the back of his head, part of it felt wrong as much as it did right.

Grinding his pelvis against his hand now, the hard friction of his bones causing him to groan into the fabric of the bedding as he continued. Sans’ other hand reached down to his lower spine, moving up and down in a repeated action as it applied even more pleasure. 

As Sans quickened his pace, the sound of Gaster praising him popped back up in his head. At the thought Sans’ face flushed up again, his tongue threatening to loll out as he began to reach his climax. 

_“Evidently… talented.”_ _Murmured gently against his head._

Sans shivered as he bucked into his hands, stifling out a moan as he felt his body quake and tremble with an uncontrollable pleasure, his hands random with speed as his body twitched. 

After a few seconds, Sans’ breathing became regular again, his body calming down as he lowered himself fully back onto the bedding, welcoming its comfort. He moved his hands from his painfully sensitive pelvis and vertebrae, placing them on his sternum as he laid on his back, feeling the lull of his drowsiness pull him into sleep.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made a shitty blog where you can question us or give us advice  
> Recommended advice: go to church  
> coffee-death-and-sin.tumblr.com
> 
> Hoooh-mama 3 (?) chapters in and we got porny. Somebody help us.


End file.
